Thursday, October 25, 2007

Mountain Bob (fire news)

I DROVE UP El Toro Road toward Cook's Corner today, hoping to get to my place near Trabuco Canyon (Live Oak Canyon), which I evacuated two days ago, owing to the fire.

As expected, a cop was there to keep everyone out.

"Well, I live here," I explained. I showed the cop my (expired) Drivers License.

"No exceptions."

As he said that, a KNX News Radio truck drove down from the canyon. The cop waved at its occupants as though he knew them.

I gestured at the truck.

"Except for the news media," said the cop.

So I parked behind Cook's and started walking up Harris Grade. I figured the cop was too busy to notice me. He was.

It was hot, and I wasn't really dressed for a midday hike, but it's only a mile to the top of the grade and it isn't much further from there to Lambrose Canyon.

About a third of the way up, the burned area on the Modjeska side (left) became visible. It was pretty ugly.

Took some pics. Check 'em out. [Click on the pics to enlarge them.]


When I got to the top, I could see what had happened to Hamilton Trail, which is on the left (the peak) side of Live Oak Canyon Road. It contains a few dozen homes.

It looked pretty bad. No homes were burned, but everything around them was black and still smoking.

I ran into a guy in a truck who lived there. Some people decided to defy the mandatory evacuation. They drive around from Cook's Corner down to O'Neill Park, but they can't drive through the cop blockades—that is, they can't leave—'cause if they do, they aren't let back in.

This guy explained that, at one point, the fire was "360 degrees" around his house. He gestured a circle around himself and made a horrified face.

But the firefighters saved it, he said.

"That's great," I said.

I've been through fires before, and so I wasn't surprised by the devastation, the ugliness, the silence.

As it turns out, my side of Live Oak Canyon Rd. was entirely unscathed, near as I could tell. Below Hamilton Trail, most of the peak side had been saved too.

I walked through the oak trees to Lambrose Canyon and spotted "Mountain" Bob at the entrance of our little colony. He commenced telling me stories. "The flames," he said, were "200 feet high." "I'd never seen anything like it."

"I got religion," he said.

Bob is pretty ironic. So I don't think he was serious.

Later, he asked me, "Do you believe in God, Chunk?"

"Nope."

"O.K. Ever heard of Herbert Spencer?"

He went on like that. Bob's a character, he is.


When I got to the Wheeler Compound, everything was exactly as we had left it on Tuesday.

The doors at my parents' place were unlocked. I walked in, checked things out. I had a beer. Then I locked the doors and left.

I headed up to my place. It was utterly quiet. I made a couple of phone calls, checked out a leaking water tank.

I noticed lots of billowing smoke coming from behind and to the left of Modjeska Peak. (See pic above.) That didn't look good.


Then I headed back down.

On my way out, I talked with Bob again. He offered to drive me back to Cook's Corner—or just short of it anyway.

"Great," I said.

"We'll take my Prius! It's up there!" He motioned to a high point next to his house. I walked up there as he parked his truck on the other side of his house.

No Prius.

"There's no Prius up here, Bob," I shouted.

He looked concerned. He climbed up to where I was. "Where's my Prius?," he said. He thought a moment. Then he cursed.

"We'll take my diesel!" shouted Bob.

"Sounds good," I said.

"But it's got no fuel, so we might not make it."

That's Bob for you. Off we went.

When I drove away from Cook's, I could see Bob arguing with two cops at the blockade.

Love that Bob.

11 comments:

Rebel Girl said...

Hey there Chunk! Good work fella!

xo -

Anonymous said...

Hey, Chunk! Is this the same Bob? (From L.A. Times Web site)

Though many people in Live Oak Canyon had been evacuated, there were some
holdouts, including Bob Heerdt, 73. He has lived for nearly three decades on
a sprawling estate at the corner of Hunky Dory and Rinky Dink, two modest
canyon roads. His land is dotted with rusted farm equipment, appliances, a
50-foot sailboat he had hoped to restore when he bought it in 1976, and tall
oaks that form a canopy over the property.

"I won't see this taken away from me," he said Wednesday. "I'm like a good
captain. I'm going down with the ship."


Sounds as though these Canyon people are pretty spirited, even if it isn't the same guy!

Go, Chunk (and Bob)!

Roy Bauer said...

Yep, it's the same Bob. The one and only.

Anonymous said...

A great read! Thanks Chunky!

Anonymous said...

I'm so glad your place is still there. I love that you had a beer while there, awesome!
Great pics, too.
I wonder what happened to Bob's Prius? Only Bob knows, I guess.

Anonymous said...

Good to hear from you again--and especially to hear the good news. I understand the eery quality of the silence: no birds, no raptors, no towhees scratching under brush. No brush.

Walk with caution and hope, Chunk.

Anonymous said...

Chunk,

Good news indeed! You must be relieved.

Hope you have your past ten and half years of documentation about the Mathurian regime backed up off site - it would have been terrible to lose any of it. We need the documentation since no one believes us when we tell them about this guy and his henchmen.

Diz Rivera said...

I heart Bob. Where'd his Prius go?

Anonymous said...

Great read Chunk and I loved the photos. I am so glad your place is OK.

Regarding the god thing: I am such a true non-beleiver that I never worry about Pascal's wager. And if for some reason I am wrong, well, I'm dead so I won't have to worry about it.

Anonymous said...

If god is so all knowing and whatnot, wouldn't he/she/it sniff out the insincerity?

Anonymous said...

And of course Pascal missed one detail: if you could somehow make yourself believe (good luck), you'd have sacrificed your self-respect and intellectual integrity. That's nothing to sneeze at. So I say: Pascal wasn't quite as clever as he thought he was.

Roy's obituary in LA Times and Register: "we were lucky to have you while we did"

  This ran in the Sunday December 24, 2023 edition of the Los Angeles Times and the Orange County Register : July 14, 1955 - November 20, 2...